


Well She Hasn't Stabbed Him.....YET

by Esyla



Series: You Don't Have To Be Insane in the Inquisition, But It Helps [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Cullen's life is trying to kill him, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, I have been working on headcannons and this is what happens, Inquisition antics, M/M, Rogue for life!, Seriously where my rogues at?, Sorry Not Sorry, Varric starts a bet, Why all the mages?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esyla/pseuds/Esyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Illya Rae Lavellan and Commander Cullen don't always see things the same way. In fact they both seem to be missing important pieces of information. Good things they have friends. And people to take Illya's dagger away from her when they fight.</p><p>---------<br/>The problem was semantics really. Illya for the most part didn’t seem to like to force anyone or strong arm people into things. Cullen was pretty much built of strong-arms and nothing else.</p><p>“Why are they always shouting at each other?” Asked one of the runners.</p><p>“I put a quid down they explode in sexual tension before this is all over.” Varric muses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Me working through some head canon type things for my play through. I apologize for nothing. Not edited, probably riddled with mistakes. If you really feel the need to point them out I suppose you can. Thanks!

The Elders of the clan had yet to come to an agreement.

“We send the First or the Second. The conclave is about the fate of mages, it should be a mage who represents us.”

“A hunter would be better.”

“We need to send someone diplomatic.”

“A mage will scare the shems. You know how they get around some one who wasn’t locked up in one of their prisons.”

“None of them are locked up anymore that’s the whole point of this.”

“Shems don’t understand our ways. We might anger them by sending the First.”

It had been going on like this for nearly an hour. It was finally the Keeper’s father who spoke up for the first time that ended the discussion.

“We send Illya Rae.” He spoke calmly.

“Surely you must be joking. She is a brute and quick to violence.”

“That’s just because she doesn’t like you.” There was laughter.

“The girl is a menace. She has been reorganizing my cart again.” Spoke up another.

“Illya has been the best negotiator we have ever had.” The keeper’s father continued as if he had never been interrupted. “Our business with the shems always goes smoothly when she is involved. She is carefully and thinks about what she does, when it does not include a childhood rival. Illya is the best spy we have ever trained and her mother was half shem. She knows their ways. Her brother is the second and thus she knows much of our magic without being a mage herself. They will not see her as a threat and she will learn much of what is happening just by standing still.”

A hush fell over the group. No one could disagree.

“Good. Someone go get her out of that tree and tell her to pack her things for the south.”

So they sent her instead of the First. Because Clan Lellvalian had grown to be more caustious in the years since the raids. Illya would do well. They never understood until later how well she would do. Except for maybe the Keeper’s father.

Varric hasn’t yet figure out if this little display is worthy of drinks. Currently the advisors of the Inquisition (Which has been around for like three whole weeks of chaos) and Illya are shouting at each other again. Cassandra even bowed out a while back mumbling something about going to hit something with a sword. Josephine and Leliana are still there but they are really only throwing comments in what is slowly becoming a stare down between Cullen and Illya.

Illya is going to win. She always seems to these days. Funny that she went from prisoner, like he had, to suddenly being the heavy hitter in these meetings. She normally had good ideas actually. And she acted pretty quickly when people needed her help or the refuges needed something.

The problem was semantics really. Illya for the most part didn’t seem to like to force anyone or strong arm people into things. Cullen was pretty much built of strong-arms and nothing else.

“Why are they always shouting at each other?” Asked one of the runners.

“I put a quid down they explode in sexual tension before this is all over.” Varric muses.

“Honestly it will only be a couple of months.” Supplies a soldier who has also joined the group watching from the wings of the chantry. “He stammers when you ask him about her.”

“She threw a knife at the last guy from our squad that didn’t give her a heads up he was coming to see her after she got that cut getting Mother Giselle.” Varric and the rest of the group turned to look at the runner who had spoken up. He gulped nervously. “It missed.”

“She doesn’t really miss when she throws those knives.” Varric considered.

Well if he was going to be here trying to save the world the best he could do is make some money. His publishers would like that.

“Gentlemen, anyone interested in a little wager?” He could always do both.

**  
  
**

Cullen liked rules and orders. He liked being able to know what to do without having to agonize over choices. He wasn’t fond of thinking too hard ever since….well the past. When Cassandra and Lelianna had come to him and asked that he command the forces he had said yes because they were good people and he knew that with them running the show it wasn’t going to be the mess he had just left. Especially if it meant he got to go against those assholes in the chantry.

This was going to be just fine. Or as fine as things could be in his life.

Then came Illya. He was going to go grey because of her. Protect her they say, she is the key to closing the rift they say. Only she is a slippery devil who might have been put here just to torture him. She was never where she was supposed to be. She tended to find high places to sit that were not traditionally places people sat.

“She was on the beams in the pub. The craftsman got a bit freaked out.”

She also was garbage at defending herself. Oh sure she could do a lot of damage with those knives of hers, of which there were about eleven. But she never came back unscathed. She was constantly covered in cuts and bruises and the healer as was starting to just dose her with stuff before she could even leave.

“Can you please get four of the soldiers to help me hold her down. She is claiming the elixir tastes like death and refused to drink it. She will get an infection if she doesn’t take it.”

But the worst thing was that everyone liked her. His troops thought she was not only funny but pretty much some kind of holy messenger. The spies brought her trinkets just so she could hang them from her ceiling to look at while lying in bed. The nobles liked her. The merchants liked her. Cullen had almost fallen on his face the first time he had watched Illya perform a proper bow and greet a noble with proper rank and title. Josephine insisted she must have spent at least a year learning all that etiquette.

She was a pain in his side and everyone liked her. Him included. Blast it.

Maker’s breath she was beautiful. It had taken him four full minutes to even realize she was Dalish because he had been so speechless. Illya had lavender eyes. Oh he had seen similar shades before on elves but hers were rather hypnotic. She was taller than most of the elves he had met. Illya could look him in the eye without turning her head up in bare feet (which seemed to happen a lot these days for reasons he hadn’t found).

The men liked that she came to train with them, but for all the wrong reasons.

**  
  
**

“What are you wearing?” Cassandra asked, fearing the answer. Honestly Illya was just trying to be strange at this point.

“Sparring gear.” Illya responded sounding unconcerned.

“Those are under things.” Cassandra corrected. Illya really was wearing nothing more than very tightly fitted cloth. Some of it appeared see through.

“Just watch.” Illya waved a hand at Varric who looked a bit concerned and then he hafted up Bianca and took aim at Illya. Cassandra was about to yell at both of them when the first bold went off and Illya was already moving. The dagger had caught the arrow on the side and sliced it. Illya turned and smiled at Cassandra like a kid who had just learned to walk. “See. Has to be light and tight to move.”

“You are going to get someone killed.” Cassandra went back to her own warm ups, trying desperately to ignore her new comrade who seemed determined to bend in as many inhuman movements as possible. Cassandra could hear some of the training slowing down behind her as Illya continued. She could hear Cullen shout at some of the troops wanting to know what was going on. There were footsteps.

Cullen walked right into a practice dummy.

Cassandra sighed.

**  
  
**

Josephine handed him the report with a look on her face that meant trouble.

“What?”

“Just read it.” She sighed and waved at the paper. Cullen pulled the paper forward and began reading.

“No.”

“Yes.”

He kept reading.

“Pants?”

“Yes.”

He groaned.

“They both came?”

“Yes.”

Cullen felt his head fall forward.

At that exact moment Illya walked in and saw both of them looking grim. She paused in what had clearly been a run, slunk forward and picked up a candle sitting on the side table, never breaking eye contact Illya backed away with even slower movements closing the door behind her.

“What?”

“Asking makes it worse.” Josephine patted him on the arm.

**  
  
**

The trouble was she kept getting hurt. The trouble was Cullen didn’t feel safe, not yet. Not with a bloody great hole in the sky. Not with mages and templars fighting out in the open. Not with the death toll of civilians. And she wouldn’t listen to him.

That was the trouble really. He was too concerned about what happened to one spitfire elf to be reasonable. Oh sure Josephine had good ideas and Leliana could do her job well beyond any expectations. But he saw a problem, saw the danger, and then some loud animal part of him started screaming ‘NOT SAFE MAKE SAFE SWORD SAFE SHIELD SAFE NO SNEAKING NO TALKING MAKE BETTER’ and he was only marginally good at keeping that part of himself down.

Illya had kicked him in the shin the last time he had ‘insisted’ on anything. And he had smiled.

“You look like you are thinking of jumping in that glass Curly.” Varric smiled and gave Cullen a good little pat. Cullen didn’t look up. “Oh I see. Lady troubles.” Varric took a seat farther down the bar.

“What kind of lady?”

“No, not a good idea Buttercup.” Sera pouted but went off to do other things.

**  
  
**

“You know normal people don’t go to find a healer and come back with a Tiventer mage instead.” Cassandra sounds like she is ready to punch something.

“Dorian’s nice.” Illya argues.

“He brought us useful information about the mages.” Leliana supplies.

“Not you too!” Cullen can feel is sanity draining.

“Don’t get mad commander, you will wrinkle.” Dorian leans forward to try and rub a hand across Cullen’s face, he knocks it out of the way before things go further. The blasted mage is actually the worst thing that has ever happened. Mostly because Illya seems to adore him. She went to Redcliff Village to find a herbalist and a healer for some of the refuges, not to begin to bargin for the mage’s assistance.

“I thought we were thinking of asking the templars for an alliance.” Cullen throws out, one last time in hopes that they will see reason.

“Look, the templars seem to be fine. Beside the fact that the Lord Seeker punched and old lady in the middle of the square they aren’t actually a huge threat at the moment.” Illya explained. “The mages however seem to be now a real issue seeing as a clearly mad Tivinter Magistrate as control of all of them. That’s bad. That’s very very bad.”

“Mustache twirling bad.” Dorian throws out. Illya smiles and the two of them high five, right there in the war room. Cullen is pretty sure he can hear his own heart breaking.

Iron Bull buys him a drink the night before they head out. And then asks if Cullen would like to join him back in his tent. Cullen has to try very hard to say no in a way that will not piss off the newest member of their spy organization.

“That’s lovely but…”

“Oh it’s alright commander!” Iron Bully laughs and pats him on the back. “I just had to settle a bet.”

“A what?” Cullen has no idea what is going on. None. He watches Iron Bull hand Varric a rather large looking purse before the two leave the small tavern. What?

**  
  
**

“Time travel.” Illya repeats the moment all the the advisors stop fighting. “World ending time travel.” She tries using the voice the keeper used to call ‘the someone is about to start bleeding voice.’ The four of them stop looking like they are going to eat each other alive. “I get that humans have some weird ideas about mages being awful or something,” Illya waves her hands in big archs. “But now is not the time to get mad that I said everyone could stay up past bed time.”

They all turn to look at her as if she has lost her mind.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Josephine offers softly.

“It’s really not.”

“Look here…” Cullen begins, but doesn’t get to finish because Illya has thrown her helmet at him.

“No you look! We want to close the hole in the sky that was opened with magic. I am pretty damn sure magic is going to be required to close it. So I went and got us mages and I found out that we have some kind of Old Dude out to murder me. This is progress.” Illya took a deep breath. “Now if you don’t mind I am going to go make a sandwich made of two entire loaves of bread and half of the ham we have. Then there shall be a nap. After said nap any complaints can be met with at least the promise I won’t stab you for being daft.” Illya turned and stormed out then.


	2. Ice. Salt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff that happens up until they reach Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry about what I do to Tenses. I am an adult. I have no excuse. No I tell a lie. Dyslexia. I spent three minutes trying to remember how to spell 'flew' today. Words are hard.

Illya was still mostly asleep. She was in that nice in-between where the trees of her dreams suddenly started to look like people and have voices. Also one of the Halla was dancing.

“She has been asleep for over a day.” Said a grumpy looking tree

“The magic used to transport her through time took energy from her and Dorian. He is only slightly better.” A bald tree was walking around looking concerned about all the other trees.

“But she is fine.” The grumpy tree was growing feathers.

“I can assure you Illya is mostly recovered. Another large meal should have her restored.” The bald tree was now rubbing it’s head in the creek. Silly tree. “You need not remain by her side commander.”

“I was simply checking in on her.” The grumpy tree had a nice butt.

**  
  
**

“My mouth tastes like ass.” Illya groaned stretching as she walked towards the mess.

“Ha!” Sera cackled from somewhere up ahead. “That’s a shiny picture.”

“No.” Illya snapped.

“Morning beauties, what is the topic of this day?” Dorian asked as he appeared from the shadows. Illya was starting to think he waited in dark corner for effect. It’s what she would do.

“Arse!” Sera shouted gleefully and sprinted towards food.

“Ah yes, my favorite topic.” Dorian spun on his feet so he was now walking on the other side of Illya. “And there is the finest asre in Haven.” Dorian sighed dreamily. Illya turned to see who he was talking about and saw that Commander Cullen had decided the troops needed instruction. He had taken his armor off.

Mythal’s tits, that was the actual size of his shoulders?

“It’s like looking at a triangle.” Dorian supplied. Illya turned to him looking slightly shocked.

“I am too hungry for this.”

“Same.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I promise not to eat him before meals.” Dorian held up his hand like a promise. “I am certain he would much rather eat you.”

Her feet were the problem. She didn’t trip because he said that.

“You getting up?” Dorian asked only slightly concerned.

“Nope bury me here.” Illya told the mud. UGH.

Sera brought her a turkey leg and spent the whole time poking Illya’s butt to get her to stand up. Demon.

 

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Illya looked up so fast from the map that she heard her neck snap. Her eyes got so large they began to water and it felt like hot steel was being pour down her spine. “Oww.”

“I’m so sorry.” Cullen began again looking even more upset. Illya grimaced and held up her hand to show it was fine. She just needed to close her eyes for a second.

They hadn’t really talked since the whole helmet throwing thing. Well that was a lie. She had shouted at him when he had started yelling about sending troops to deal with the thing and the guy in the place. What had that been about? She had most certainly broken something.

There was suddenly something cold on the back of her neck and it felt like heaven.

“Oh creators.” Illya moaned. She opened her eyes to find Cullen holding a hunk ice to the back of her neck. He was close enough that she could see his stubble perfect detail, and that scar on his lip. “Thank you.”

“You need to stretch properly after being unconscious and then….” he clearly was about to tell her about the superior methods to take care of herself but he noticed the look on her face and stopped. “Your welcome.”

“Where did you even get that ice?” Illya was pretty sure he hadn’t run out of the Chantry and carved it out of the ice caps. Cullen kicked a bucket under the table. There was the faint clink of ice.

“I got sore from training at midday and had some brought in.”

“And you just hold it up to your armor?” Illya was pretty sure the ice was supposed to be applied to the muscles directly.

“Yes. No.” Cullen turned pink at the ears. “I mean I was in my leathers for a few hours reading reports.”

“In the main war room?” Illya smiled. “I am scandalized.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“Don’t start.” He growled.

“Oh commander!” She swooned and pitched her voice higher. “Perish the thought that someone might have caught sight of you.”

“Leaving.” He barked and stamped towards the door. Illya followed with and even higher pitched voice.

**  
  
**

Varric, Iron Bull and Dorian were sitting at the forge tinkering with weapons when Commander Cullen stormed across the yard at a pace that would have been considered marching. He was followed closely by Illya who currently appeared to be screaming at a pitch only the dogs and horses could hear and was constantly throwing herself down in front of him while holding the back of her hand over her face. They made a complete circuit of the yard before Cassandra kicked Illya and chased her back to the Chantry.

“I want in.” The blacksmith told Varric.

“Okay but know that it’s not changing odds. Once you place in the over/under I wont be having argument.” Varric explained. A few of the men had already tried to explain that Illya being out on missions could not possibly count on their time for the bet. Varric wasn’t giving money back.

“My boy said as much.” The blacksmith nodded. And then bet really high.

“You sure about that?” Varric asked. No one had put money on a date that far out yet.

“Yup.” The man motioned to Commander Cullen. “He’s scared and she likes the game too much.”

“He has a point.” Dorian agreed. “She does like to poke the beast.” Iron Bull chuckled. “Not you.”

“Oh but it could be, Vint.”

Varric did not need this. More couples. What was with people. Well not couples. Not yet. To be courtships. He was drowning in them. He better make good money when all of this was over.

**  
  
  
**

“I said shields up!” Illya mouthed. From her position behind Cullen and the troops in training. Cassandra snorted.

“If this had been real you would be dead!” Illya mouthed along with Cullen, adding scrunched up faces to the mix. Two of the soldiers saw and giggled. Cullen whirled on her.

“I want no part in this.” Cassandra snarled as was her way and went back to her own dummies.

“Something funny?” Cullen demanded.

“Nope.” Illya popped the P loudly in his face.

“Perhaps you might like to show the recruits a real fight.” Cullen had murder in his eyes. Oh, she had just made fun of him in front of the troops. Time to ‘measure their kills’ so the men knew what was what.

“Absolutely.” Illya grinned. His ass was hers. Not like that. Fighting. Yes.

**  
  
**

Josephine heard the pounding of feet and her door flew open to reveal a winded scout.

“Commander Cullen and The Herald are fighting!” At first this statement didn’t mean anything to her until she realized that she could hear shouting in the distance.

“In the ring?” The scout nodded and dashed off. Josephine organized her papers and made sure to that nothing was left out of place and then Slowly made her way to the training yard. There was a crowd of course but they let her pass until she was at the front next to Solas who looked remarkably blank as usual.

The sight in the ring was slightly breath taking. Illya had stripped down to the silks she wore under her leathers and armor. Cullen had only his leather pants still on. Both looked fairly sweaty and out of breath but the fight did not seem to be slowing down. Despite the lack of proper armor both were still fighting with real weapons.

“Please tell me those are dull blades.” Josephine gasped.

“I think not.” Solas narrowed his eyes as Illya licked her lips.

Cullen pulled up his shield just as Illya spun, her blade edges catching the shield and not him. Only Illya had put her weight on a single leg and now her upper body was continuing to move downward and her other leg came up and caught Cullen across the cheek as he maneuvered the shield to block the low swing she had gone for as well. His sword struck out and went right between Illya’s arms and legs but it was a close thing that she wasn’t nicked.

Then, because the girl enjoyed making the healers work overtime, Illya grabbed the sword with the flat of one hand and twisted around Cullen so that he had to either spin with her, drop the weapon or have a twisted his arm. He dropped the weapon and Illya continued on behind him with the sword now trailing blood where her palm was cut.

“Got your sword.” She offered with a pant.

“Got your blade.” Cullen kicked at the dual blade that Illya had dropped to continue her maneuvering. They smiled at each other. Josephine covered her eyes.

“I cannot watch.” She moaned. They had five nobles in Haven today and this is what they decided to do.

“Ruffles!” Varric called from her side. “Want to get in on the action before the fight is over.”

“No!”

“Your loss!”

Josephine opened her eyes to see that Cullen was doing remarkably well at keeping Illya off him with only a shield. To be truthful though Illya looked like she was letting him. She had that look in her eyes that she got right before she ended up sitting somewhere she shouldn’t and jumping down to scare people. Suddenly Cullen pushed forward and Illya stumbled backwards, Josephine didn’t understand exactly how it happened but Illya was without her final dagger and on the ground.

“And that,” Cullen told the mostly silent crowd, “Is how you properly use a shield.”

Illya bounced up on one hand and her legs were around Cullen’s now exposed throated. She tucked herself down and then the commander was on the ground and she was sitting on his chest looking smug.

“And THAT,” Illya sing songed leaning down into Cullen’s face, “Is how you take down a templar.”

There was a silent moment where Josephine could have sworn she saw Cullen turn a rather impressive shade despite already looking flushed and Illya look something other than smug; but a shout of triumph rang out and suddenly the two were swarmed by their men.

Josephine walked back to the Chantry with Sola who also didn’t seem interested in what had turned into quite the display now that things were officially over.  There was singing. Varric seemed to be passing out and taking money in a smaller circle while most of the scouts and recruits were busy patting Cullen and worshipping Illya. Seriously, one man had gotten on his knees and said “We are not worthy!” while laughing but still.

Surprisingly the little display convinced every noble and merchant who was present to commit to the Inquisition.

“With people like that leading you are the best choice out there.”

“I can trust my goods and trade routes to men like that.”

“I am inspired to see the Inquisition understand that women are just as deadly. My retainers are at your disposal.”

At this rate Josephine would make the two of them fight once a week just for the results. They probably wouldn’t mind.

“Lets close the hole in the sky they said. It will be easy they said.” Illya muttered.

“No one likes a whiner.” Vinvine snapped as she walked by.

“MY WRIST HURTS!” Illya shouted after the woman. It really did hurt, or twinge. Something. Illya just knew that the weird pulse in her palm had gone up and then down and now it felt WRONG.

“Dancing!” Sera shrieked while she whirled past Illya with a pretty healer on her arm.

“Yes, yes dancing.” Illya waved and walked over to where someone was passing out the strong stuff. “Can you put it into a bowl?” Illya asked the lady standing behind the makeshift table. She grinned and pulled out a truly giant mug. “Mythal bless you.” Illya made grabby hands and wandered off with her mug to find… some one.

“Should you be celebrating that much?” Culled asked coming up from her left.

“SHUSH you.” Illya took a swig while maintaining eye contact. “I earned this.”

“Yes you did.” He smiled. It was like being hit on the head, only her head was in her chest and between her legs. Faces like that should not be allowed. “Well… I’ll just…” Cullen waved towards a stack of crates, looked light he had made a huge mistake and then seemed to commit to the thing, “Go.” He walked directly towards the crates and then stepped over a few before disappearing behind them. He was weird.

“We have to get people out!”

“A dragon! Why does he have a dragon!”

“The Chantry wont hold against a dragon.”

“He knows the way.” The tiny voice of Cole. So the civilians flee. So they all flee. Except her.

“I have to buy you time.” Illya looks serious. She never looks serious. Not even that time when they had to sew up her leg. Cullen’s throat feels like ash. He is breathing in dirt and it’s choking him already. Not like this.

“Make a lot of noise.” He offers to the taste of blood in his mouth.

“Oh you know me.” Illya’s smile is bitter. Not like this. She is walking away. There is still the boy and the cleric. He can’t. But. Not like this.

“Herald!” He calls out to her. She turns. Her tattoos look black in the light, not green. Green to compliment those eyes. That stuff on her lips is gone they look pink for once instead of grey. Damn.

It must be on his face. ‘You are an open book little brother’ they always said. It’s on her face too now. Maker’s breath she is beautiful. Not like this. Her hands are in his hair and on his arms, his are on her back and in her hair. It’s a crash. And explosion of mixed air and mouths. It lasts a second. He bites her lower lip, draws blood.

“If you die I will kill you.” He growls. Not like this. The beast deep inside roars. The dragon bellows.

“If you die not even the fade will protect you.” She smirks. “I know mages.” He laughs. It’s like whiskey in his throat, burning and wonderful.

“I shall make a note.” He bows. Of course he bows. You bow to the hero. You send them off. Not like this. Not sending off. She is coming back. He tells himself that as they stumble in the darkness.

She is coming back. He tells himself as they climb.

She is coming back. He tells himself in the frozen snow.

He says it in his mind until it’s all he hears. He builds tends. She is coming back. He organizes the troops that are left. She is coming back. He waits. She is coming back. He paces.

“I am going to look.” He tells Leliana. She doesn’t respond.

I will bring her back. He tells himself.

**  
  
  
**

Moving got impossible a mile ago. Moving is now simply not happening. Illya curses to herself, not wanting to waste the air to speak. She refuses to die like this. Her brother expects her back. The Keeper told her she would return to them. She has too much to do to let a bloody great cut on her side and some snow be what ends her.

.

.

.

The snow feels like metal under her face.

“Maker, you’re breathing.” She knows that voice.

Fur. Why fur?

“If you promise to live through this I promise to actually learn all those elven gods you curse about.”

Warm.

“I swear on Andraste that I will sit down with Solas and let him tell me everything there is to know. I will take notes.”

Her lungs hurt. Coughing.

“That’s my girl.”

Lips. Forehead. Metal on her face. Salt?

**  
  
**

“You can go fuck yourself!” Illya shouts sitting up from the nearly dead sleep she had been in. Memories fog her head. A twisted face haunts her and her palm pulses in displeasure. 

“Um.” Mother Gisele looks concerned.

“No um.” Illya wants to explain but when she moves her arm her entire left side becomes acid. “AH!”

“At least you are getting to full sentences.” Mother Gisele clicks her tongue and bring Illya the food and bandages.

“What?” Illya tries between breathes and sips.

“Later.” The Mother coos softly.

The stories tell of the song. The troops spread the tale of the song in the snow that brought back hope. Only Varric seems to remember that the Herald threw a soup bowl at the commander and tried to smother a revered mother for not letting her out of bed. Only Varric writes about how the spy master didn’t come past the fire until the Herald was back to full health for no good reason other than ‘caution my friend’. Or that the ambassador actually stopped being polite in the face of a pissed half dead elf who couldn’t seem to be kept still.

When Solas had finally come forward to say that he thought Illya might need a little walk to think they had pretty much picked Illya up and put her in his arms with much enthusiasm. At least the mage got Illya to stop trying to kill the people taking care of her, and some how well enough to go find a castle.

Varric doesn’t know yet if it’s worth writing about how the command had looked like he had been crying when he carried the Herald of Andraste half dead into camp. Perhaps later. When this was all legend.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everyone is making this romance really sweet and gushy and that's fine, but not how I am playing this. Not to mention that I actually wanted to murder Cullen until about the attack on Haven. I was just like "WHY ARE YOU THE WORST?" So clearly I had to get into his pants. Right?
> 
> Hope you enjoy the disjointed mess that is my writing style.
> 
> Two chapters one day! This is what happens when I am running out of things to do in the actual game. I REFUSE TO FINISH UNTIL EVERY LAST SHARD AND MOSAIC IS FOUND I DO NOT CARE WHAT THE REWARDS ARE I DONT LIKE UNFINISHED LISTS!


	3. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors fly and upset the adult male blonde. Also Illya doesn't deal with feelings in the proper way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so some of this isn't canon anymore but its hella close.

The steady stream of nobles into Skyhold is rather impressive. But not as impressive as the truly epic throne that has been built for the newly crowned Inquisitor Illya Rae Lavellan to sit on. She now sits on a throne that depicts Andraste being burned at the stake. It’s kind of grotesque.

After each noble was greeted Josephine stepped up to Illya, placed something in her hand which Illya promptly placed in her mouth and smiled right as the next noble approached. Varric had to know. It took him half an hour to work his way around the grand hall. Finally he stood just behind Josephine as yet another noble was escorted away and she walked over to Illya to hand her something again.

“What exactly are you doing Ruffles?” He asked out of the corner of his mouth. He stood on his tip toes trying to see what the woman had on her board.

“Our Inquisitor is highly motivated not to swing from the rafters when there are treats involved.” Josephine said with a pleasant smile.

“You are bribing her to be polite with food?” Varric didn’t know why he was surprised.

“She is rather fond of blueberries.” Josephine gave a quick smile and hurried to hand Illya the next blueberry reward. What was it with heros and food? He shook his head and went to go find one of the others to bother, maybe the kid was in the mood to be real for a minute.

**  
  
**

The whispers were all over Skyhold. The Inquisitor was in a relationship with a necromancer from Tiventer.

Who could actually blame them? They had traveled to the future together and seen the horrors to come.

It must have been terrible.

But a mage?

A Tivinter?

Him with and elf?

This is what happens when a knife ear is in charge.

Cullen stopped the talk the moment it started. Or he tried to stop it rather. Told the men to get back to work. But the talk filled the castle. And how could it not? Just yesterday Illya had come back from investigating Redcliff, she had returned to the castle slung over Dorian’s shoulder laughing. The mage had marched her all the way up to her quarter and stayed up there for a while. He went on missions with her countless more times than the others ever did. The two had even been seen practicing for the archery match to be held in a few days.

It made sense. It really did. The kiss had been the fight and the fear. He was delusional to think someone so young and wonderful would want anything to do with him. He had over a decade on her. He felt stupid. Utterly a fool.

He was hiding. It wouldn’t be good for the men to see him drunk. So he sat in the far corner hidden by that wall Sera has constructed. The bartender brought him drinks silently every so often and Cullen tipped the men well. He was giving himself a few days to wallow and then he would be done with this. Done.

“I am telling you that the Inquisitor, that funny mage and Mother Gisele got into a huge fight today.”

“I don’t believe you mate.” A laugh.

“No, listen. I was running up to give the spymaster reports. I heard the three of them shouting.”

“Probably just in trouble for trying to knock boots in the library.”

“Nah. The whole fight was about not knocking boots.”

Cullen didn’t breath. The voices were coming from the level below him. He could barely hear them over the bard’s song.

“You are pulling my leg man.”

“The Quz said she was gonna punch the holy lady for spreading lies around. Called her out on believing the rumors. It was magnificent.”

The song got loud. Cullen felt lost. He must have stared at the wall in front of him for nearly an hour because the bartender was putting another drink in front of him by the time he realized he has been lost in thought. He paid the man despite the fact that he hadn’t even started on the previous drink.

“Did I ever tell you what we were doing in Redcliff?” Varric was sitting in the chair across from him looking shifty.

“You went to find the straggler mages and clean up the area.” Cullen muttered into his mug.

“Bit of a lie that.” Varric took a swig. “Church lady came to The Boss with a paper from Dorian’s family. Wanted him to meet with some retainer in Redcliff to talk.” There was a lot of sarcasm in that. “So we go because we certainly need to know what’s going on Tivinter. We show up and a guy that looks like an older version of Dorian, sans stache, is the only one there.” Varric paused to drink, and to force Cullen to ask. Of course. Varric liked an interactive audience when he was in person.

“His father I presume?”

“Yup. There to reconcile with his son.” Varric spit on the ground. “I am still surprised Illya made Dorian stay and talk to the man, after what he confessed to.” Varric was not pleased. “He tried to use blood magic to alter his own son. Over what? All because Dorian only enjoys the company of men.”

It was like being hit over the head. Only his head was in his chest.

“It’s apparently bad form in Tivinter to have an heir that isn’t willing to make more heirs. Sparkler was a mess the whole way back. Boy never worked through what it was like to have a father like that.” Varric finished his drink. “Sparkler is lucky to have a friend as dedicated as Illya.” The dwarf got up gave him a Look. “For morale’s sake and the rest of our sanity would you please do something soon.” And then he was gone.

“Why would you say such a thing to the revered Mother Gisele?” Cassandra barked. Illya didn’t have time for this, she had an archery contest to win.

“She was being cruel to Dorian for no good reason.” Illya told her very shouty friend and went back to trying to aim at the target.

“The revered mother Gisele was simply voicing a concern about your reputation.” Cassandra was not going to leave this alone.

“Look, Cass” Illya whirled on her friend still aiming her bow. “If all of Skyhold starts saying bad things about you behind your back I will also punch those people. You are both my favorite.” Although really her favorites were everyone. Illya wasn’t good at picking favorites.

“Tell me you did not punch her!” Cassandra was not at ‘bellowing’ levels of shouting. “This is not how the Inquisitor should act. Tact is required!”

“I’ll show you tact.” Illya mumbled to herself. She needed to get Dagna to make some kind of enchanted ear ring that would turn down the sheer noise Cassandra could produce when she was feeling left out.

“What was that?” Cassandra had crazy good hearing.

“I said that I didn’t actually punch her. I just threatened. See, tact!” Illya let her arrow fly and watch as it soared to hit the bar which was very far right of her target. “Do you think they will let me enter and throw dagger?”

“It is unlikely.” Cassandra at least sounded amused.

“I give up!” Illya laid down on the ground because that was easier than standing for this. She simply wouldn’t stand for this. Illya spent a good two minutes giggling to herself about. She was going to use that.

**  
  
**

“No!”

“Please!”

“No!”

“You love me!”

“No!”

Cullen could hear the voices getting louder. He turned to see the door to his left slam open as Sera ran across his office and threw open the opposite door. Seconds later Illya came running after her, who was shortly followed by Iron Bull.

“We put down some pillows!” Illya shouted after the quickly disappearing Sera. “He isn’t going to throw you far!”

“I said no!” Sera shouted from the distance. Cullen watched all of this, along with the five other soldiers in his office, none of them ever moving.

“Would one of you be so good as to find Cassandra and make sure she at least supervises whatever…” Cullen waved in the direction of the recently departed party, “that was.”

Half of Skyhold ended up turning out to watch Iron Bull throw Sera over a wall of practice dummies. It went spectacularly well. Until Sera shot Blackwall instead of a dummy by getting caught on Bull’s horns on a bad throw. Vivienne healed him but it turned into a large shouting match and Bull trying to get other people to let him throw them.

By the time Cullen had ordered everyone back to work half of the court yard was on fire and two of the horses were in the mage tower. No one even saw them get up there. Josephine almost cried at some point. The archery contest ended up being delayed on account of there not being any place that wasn’t currently on fire to have it.

“Well Hello Handsome!” Illya greeted. Cullen froze where he was dismounting struck by sheer terror. She couldn’t possibly mean him. “What pretty horns you have!” Illya cooed. A hoof beat. Oh the hart. The others had lead it into the stables ahead of him because Cullen had wanted to inspect the upgrades to the bridge entrance. Good. For a moment there he had thought…. It wasn’t important.

**  
  
**

Illya loved this Hart. Best present yet.

“Bull watch!” She shouted gleefully. “He can dance!” Iron Bull turned from where he and Cassandra were practicing… something with swords. Illya moved the hart’s reins and the animal moved it’s hoofs in a sideways manner and skipped a little as well. Best present ever.

“Very amusing.” Cassandra told her blankly. That was Cassandra’s version os saying something nice. Win.

“Have you named the creature?” Bull asked walking up to scratch it’s antlers.

“I am working on it.” Illya still wasn’t sure what to name the animal. It was a glorious golden color and simply the nicest mount she had ever ridden.

“How about Commander.” Bull offered with a smirk.

“Why?” Illya wasn’t going to like the answer, she could tell but she asked anyway because she didn’t know what was good for her.

“Well we all know you want to mount a Commander.” Bull winked. Cassandra fell over and almost impaled herself on her sword. The Hart started dancing out of sheer confusion as to what was happening with his reins.

“Still nothing?”

“Nothing since that kiss at Haven.”

“They kissed? Doesn’t that mean someone won?”

“No. Bets were very clear. Release of sexual tension must occur. So far they are both getting more wound up on a daily basis.”

“UGH!”

“And He for sure knows that she isn’t with me, correct?”

“I could have used smaller words. But I was pretty damn straight in that talk.”

“We need to work harder on her.”

“Little people shouldn’t…”

“Sera, not the time.”

“What do you suggest? Locking them in the tower together?”

“I dont know but very soon the blacksmith is going to be the only one with a valid bet and he is going to clean us out.”

The was much agreement from the group at large. After a few more hushed whispers they broke apart in short order, moving off to their own quarters. Some might have been surprised to realize that the company included Vivienne and two nobles as well as a rather large part of the Inquisition.

**  
  
**

Illya couldn’t sleep. She should be sleeping, she had to head out in the morning to some area called Crestwood and meet Hawke’s Warden friend. She still wasn’t sure who should come. Especially because Blackwall seemed instant that he stay at Skyhold for this mission to ‘pour over the recovered artifacts’. Illya knew she was overthinking this so she went to the training ring to work her brain to death.

Someone was already there. It wasn’t the clang of metal but rather the soft thud of a practice staff on the targets. Probably that boy who had shown up wanting to prove himself. Illya was wrong about that. The blonde hair and curls told her that. Creators preserve her, his hair was loose. She must have gasped or something because he turned suddenly.

“Inquisitor.” Cullen greeted slightly out of breath.

“I think in the middle of the night you are allowed to call me Illya.” She offered coming up to the railing.

“Am I?” Cullen’s chest heaved with the question. UNFAIR. “I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to call you.”

“We can ask Josie if she has a book on it.” Illya danced around the question. Why answer things when you could not?

“You know what I meant.” He huffed and turned back to the wooden enemy.

“I suppose I do.” Illya shrugged. “What a partner?” She asked, he frozen midswing.

“If you want to join be my guest.” Cullen waved. “But I am not in the mood to go easy.”

“Why is that?” Illya asked pulling her hair back with a leather tie she kept on her wrist.

“Bad dreams.” Cullen said in the way that told her they werent talking about it.

That was fine. She needed to work off some thoughts of her own and fighting Cullen was pretty good at doing that, verbally and physically. It was better than running through a forest or climbing trees when it came to clearing her head. He was in fine form tonight. He had not been joking about needing to work something out of his system because he was particularly brutal.

His attacks were faster than normal, harder too. She lost her grip on her practice staff and it didn’t even phase him. He didn’t slow down to let her pick up. Illya flipped back to get out of his reach. It was almost like he didn’t actually see her, like he was fighting something else.

“Cullen!” She shouted when he hit her wrist with the staff hard enough she was sure to need healing. He didn’t stop. Illya started to actually do nothing but dodge and run. He didn’t seem to be getting tired. Finally she found an opening and kicked his legs out from under him. He looked like he was about to get up so Illya took his staff and pressed it into his throat lightly.

“Cullen! Maker’s breathe stop.” She shouted at him as he struggled. That clicked whatever it was.

“Illya?” His voice sounded wrecked. Creators damnit. His eyes seemed to clear and then he looked at her really looked at her. “Did I?”

“Go reaver on me? Yes.” Illya was expecting to sound pissed but she sounded just as messed up as he did. “What the hell was that?” Cullen looked shifty for a second before he just sort of collapsed into the dirt.

“I stopped taking Lyrium.” He admitted like a dirty secret.

“YOu did what?” Illya knew she was shrieking. She was going to wake someone up. “What in Andraste’s firey ass would make you do something like that?” She shouted at him, punching him in the chest and standing up to storm off. Of all the stupid, pig headed things to do.

“It’s my choice!” He growled at her.

“So you are just fine with being in extreme pain and then maybe DYING!” Illya was going to strangle him.

“That’s not going to happen!

“Of course it isn’t!” Illya slapped at his chest. “Because I am going to kill you myself!”

And then her legs were around his waist and his tongue was in her mouth. His hands were digging into her ass and her nails raised welts on his back. She was pressed up against one of the dummies which gave her leverage to raise herself on him. He growled and bit her lip again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Illya asked as his mouth moved to her neck.

“Stop bloody cursing.” He bit her ear tip.

“Only you when you stop being daft.” She hissed, rubbing herself off on him. Creators she was close.

“Don’t you…” He warned. Illya laughed as she reached her peak and came giggling onto the other side. Cullen rutted against her but Illya was having none of that and pushed him off.

“You haven’t earned it.” She told his bruised lips.

“What?” His chest shook with each breath.

“Night!” Illya called as she ran off.

“YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!” Cullen shouted after her.

**  
  
**

“How the hell did it get worse?” Varric asked the group at large a few days later.

“I didn’t think she would actually throw daggers at him just for walking into a room.” Cassandra even seems confused.

**“Did something happen that we all missed?” No one could really answer that question although Sola looked more annoyed than usual.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end. The story continues in a new work shortly.


End file.
